Gone but never forgotten
by CaleighWho
Summary: He fell, and he fell hard. He risked his life for others. And this is the story of how he died. A one-shot on the death of Tom Clarkson, from the POV of Nikki Boston. Rated T for swearing. Includes Nikki/Tom. Please leave a review, as feedback *good or bad* x


**I haven't seen any Tom fics about his death yet, so I thought I would do one :3 I'm sorry it's not very good, it was kind of rushed and it is lacking emotion. But still, let me know what you think, leave a review if you wish. It is only a one-shot because I am awful at doing full on stories :)**

**There is a little bit of Christine/Nikki in this, but it's more of a mother/daughter relationship so don't panic :')**

**Anyway, enjoy *if you can***

* * *

I'm standing there, the darkness engulfing any hint of light around. There's a sharp gust of wind that crosses past me as I watch Tom trying to prise Kyle off the roof. I'm scared; my heart is pounding and my palms are sweaty. The wind is whistling, swirling with the stray leaves, falling gracefully from the trees and bushes surrounding the school. It cuts through the silence, that horrible, _deadly_ silence. My short hair dances around my face, tickling my jawline, causing me to shudder more than I already am. Kyle's feet were dangerously close to the edge of the roof. His eyes wondering around the playground, staring down at us all. His clothes and hair dripping with cold raindrops that fell upon us as we stood below him, hoping, praying that him and Tom would be safe. I could feel my hands trembling, shaking viciously. The constant pain of worry stuffing my stomach. The sound of Tom and Kyle yelling words of distress to each other filling my ears. I couldn't hear much. They were so far away, it made it impossible to understand every little detail of the sentences they were stringing together.

Suddenly, Kyle had hold of Tom's hand. Tightly. And everyone breathed a short sigh of relief. It felt like time had stopped in a freeze frame for that moment. It seemed like everyone was safe. No harm was done. We could all go home and overlook this terrible moment.

_I was so naïve._

_I was so stupid to think that._

_Because I was wrong._

_The worst was still to come._

As Tom pulled Kyle down, his feet crossed Kyle's, and within the blink of an eye, Tom was toppling over the edge of the roof, where the broken boy was once stood.

My heart speed up as I gasped, placing my hands quickly over my mouth to stop myself from screaming. I want to run and catch him, like they do in the films, but I'm paralysed with fear, waiting to see what happens next. I know what will happen next. I just don't want to admit it to myself. I feel tears pricking at the edge of my eyes, blurring my vision. A single drop of sweat trickled down my face, mixing with my salty tears. I could feel my breath quickening as he fell further, my eyes following his every move.

_Silence_.

Tom's arms waving manically through the air as his body flew towards us at an impressive speed. The short brown jacket he was wearing flapping about in the ghastly wind. I'm panicking, a lot. More than I should be. I can feel my stomach getting tighter and tighter as his body gets closer to the wet tarmac. The eyes of just under a hundred pupils staring in disbelief at what is happening. Small gasps are shared as we hear him breathing frantically.

_More silence_.

Then it happens. Piercing screams fill the silence as Tom's body hits the cold, hard surface of our school playground, his back cracking louder than anyone expected it to. And we all stand there. Shocked. Stunned. Dazed. I gasp as I finally realise what has just happened. "Tom!" I screeched as loud as I could, my lungs already half empty from the panicked breaths I was taking. Running as fast as I could towards him. My long coat and scarf flying about. I drop down to his side, a tear falling hard to the floor. Thick tears. I try with all my might to make him feel safe; I hold his hand tight and listen to him as he breaths his last words. "It wasn't Kyle's fault." He stutters out, straining slightly, as though talking hurts. I shake my head fiercely, my lips curving down.

Sobs are surrounding me, everyone is mortified. I can hear George phoning for an ambulance, his voice cold and dark. Emotionless. Screams and cries coming from the students. I can hear Casey breaking down, and I don't need to see her to know that she is being restrained by Audrey, made sure to keep her distance. Tom was like a father to Casey, he helped her though everything. He helped _me_ through everything. My best friend, the one I trusted and cared for the most. Tom put others before himself. I've never met anyone more dedicated than Tom was to the kids of Waterloo Road. He believed and cared for them more than he'd care to admit. It wasn't just his job, it was his _life_.

He lay there, mangled on the damp concrete, his eyes threatening to flutter shut. "Stay with me Tom." My voice wavers. Emotion spilling out all over the pavement, mixing with his bright red blood. I could see the life draining out of his once so blue eyes. Colourless. Lifeless. _Dead_. I feel his grip tighten a little as he pulls me closer, my ear only inches away from his lips. "Thank you for everything." He coughed before planting a delicate kiss on my cheek. "Tom…" I chocked on my words, tears stuck in my throat. His tight grip now dropped. His eyes fluttered shut. "Tom," I shook his body; a now empty shell. Disintegrating into nothing. "No, Tom, don't you dare..." I bawl, placing my ear to his heart. I can no longer hear him fighting for his life.

_Nothing. _

_A dead silence._

For a moment, I thought my heart had stopped with his. I felt nothing. I felt empty. My breathing became frantic, quick, uneasy. I heard the sound of heels approaching me. A trail of sniffles and cries. I place my hands on his chest, as though I am about to give him CPR. "Nikki," Christine mumbled, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off straight away, as if her touch burnt me. And in truth, it did. I didn't want anyone to touch or hold me. Only _him_. The man that lies with no life.

"There's nothing you can do, Nikki. He's gone." It's obvious she's crying, her voice is soft, broken. I continue to push down hard on his chest, my breathing uneven as he doesn't move a muscle. "Oh, come on." I almost yell through gritted teeth, adding and taking pressure. Mumbling pathetic words of comfort and encouragement. The words just disappear in the air, whirling away into the darkness of the night. I don't want to give up, I keep fighting for him. My hands still tight on his chest. "Don't give up now, Tom." I cry, yell, scream. My knuckles turning white. I'm pale; the innocence and belief drained from my body. Cold. Alone.

Sirens screech loudly as they enter our ground. But it's too late. It's all over now. And I'm in a state, screaming and crying as Christine tries to remove me from Tom's side. I feel her hands snake around my waist, her grip tight, consistent, no matter how hard I try to get away. "Get the fuck off of me!" I scream, kicking my feet in a pathetic attempt to escape. I just want to be with him. "Nikki, I'm so sorry." She says, falling to the floor with me, cradling me in her arms. I try and get back to him, but she keeps me close to her body. I can feel her heart beating against mine. Strong and loud. Like it's trying to fight its way out of her rib cage. And for a moment, I lay still in her arms, allowing her to soothe me. Reduce the nagging pain and discomfort in my heart.

Paramedics rush to his side, checking for a pulse, a sign of life. There's nothing. One of the paramedics shakes his head slowly, dropping Tom's wrist. I watch as they all give up on him, too soon. Walking away with his limp, dead body, covered with a blanket, coloured like his blood. And I suddenly grow the strength to resist Christine's reassuring arms, fighting my way out of them and rushing towards the ambulance. I came to a halt as I saw the state his body was in. The horrified expression had fallen from his face. He looked peaceful. _Almost_. His back covered in his own blood. How could so much blood come from one body? He looked lonely, dull. Abandoned on the white ambulance bed, now stained with red.

I thought back to the amazing times we had together. Times that would be no more. Unexpected tears fell down my face, racing towards the ground. I wiped them away rapidly, not allowing anyone to see them. A red substance stained my cheek. It felt cold. Tom's blood. I hadn't realised it was on my hands until then. I must have been too caught up in trying to save him. I stumbled over to a paramedic. "Is- Is he dead?" I asked, my voice cracking. "I'm sorry to tell you that he _is_ dead." The paramedic spoke so confidently. Too confidently. A small whimper escaped my dry lips. "Were you two close to each other?" He tried making small talk. But I didn't want small talk; I wanted Tom to be safe. "Isn't there something you can do?" I ignored his question. He shook his head. "We've tried our hardest to help him but there is nothing we ca-"

"Try harder then! That man means everything to all of us, he deserves to be looked after, and fought for." I snapped at the poor guy. He was only doing his job. I was just upset, mad. "You should go home, and get some rest." He said calmly before getting in the back of the ambulance with Tom's body. I watched as the ambulance drove away, the sirens back on, cutting through the silent night. He was gone, forever. I'll never see him again. His smile, his laughter, and his silly little jokes. His tears when times got tough, when Josh was going through a rough patch. He'll never smile and tell me everything's going to be okay. He always used to say to me '_Everything's going to be okay in the end. If it's not okay, then it's not the end_'.

Frozen. Stuck in the same position for a good few minutes. My heart hurts, it feels like someone has torn it out, thrown it on the floor and stomped on it. Shattered it into a million pieces. And it happens again. The cries of disbelief. The screams of hopelessness. The tears of sorrow. My legs turn to jelly and they buckle beneath me, leaving me in a puddle of water and blood. My whole body is numb; I'm completely unaware that I'm crying hysterically. Christine kneels down in front of me, lightly wiping away my heavy tears. "Come on Nikki." She spoke softly. Holding out her hands and helping me up. "Let's get you home." She placed her arm around my waist, escorting me to her car. For the first time since the incident, I felt safe, secure. I just needed someone to cry with. Although Christine didn't fully understand why I was in such a state over Tom, I knew she would be there for me. And I was grateful.

* * *

As soon as I got indoors, I kicked off my shoes, my feet aching from all the standing around. I heard Christine close my door shut quietly. I closed my eyes for a moment, listening to the sound of her heels getting louder and louder as she got closer. I whip off my drenched jacket, throwing it carelessly on the sofa. The freezing cold raindrops have soaked through my jacket and onto my blouse, making me shudder again. I quickly run my hands through my wet hair, letting a few droplets fall down my spine. I rush to fridge, opening it aggressively and clasping an ice cold beer in my shaky hands. Slamming it onto the side, grabbing a bottle opener and flicking the lid off. I gulp as much as I can, feeling the liquid travel through my body at a sickening pace. It felt good. It felt _great_. Everything that had happened tonight was slowly fading with each sip I took.

Christine stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching me drown myself in alcohol. She sighed before walking over to me and abruptly snatching the drink out of my hands. "_This_ isn't the way to grieve." She spat, her rough accent shining through. "I need it." I mumbled quietly, so quiet it was almost a whisper, as if I was ashamed of drinking. I was doing no harm; I was only going to have one or two bottles. She rolled her eyes, handing me the bottle back. Christine, of all people, could understand that right now alcohol is my only option.

And so as the night went on I drank more and more bottles of beer, eventually losing all feeling of pain and sorrow in my aching body. We sat in silence. The TV was playing Eastenders, but neither of us were watching it; we were both too engulfed in our own thoughts. I suddenly felt her hand on my knee, and I looked at her. She was still crying. Her eyes red and puffy, mirroring my own. "You need to stop drinking now." She spoke the truth. I knew I needed to stop, but I didn't want to remember any details about today. I shook my head, placing my lips around the bottle and downing the last of it.

Sighing, I got up and made my way to the kitchen for the 5th time in an hour. Christine tagged behind me, like a little lost puppy. As I went to open the fridge, she pulled me away. "Nikki, stop." She said strictly. "I can't. I need to forget." I nudged her off of me, going back to the fridge, opening it a little. But before I could get it fully open, and grab myself another beer, she had slammed her hand onto the door, closing it viciously. "No. I won't allow you to go through this." A fresh tear slid down her rosy cheek. "Why do you care?" I yelled, pushing her away from me and flinging the fridge open. Disappointment painted across my face as I realise there's none left. "Fuck." I curse, slamming the door hard. "Typical." I moan to myself, pacing around the room, looking for more alcohol. "Where the hell have they all gone?!" I shout, throwing my empty bottle onto the floor in violent manor, smashing it, leaving it scattered around the floor, before breaking down in tears.

Christine was quick to react; she took hold of my shaking body, cuddling me tightly. "Nikki, I know it's hard now, but it will get easier." She promised me, whispering the words into my hair. I cried into her chest for longer than anticipated, staining her top with mascara. "You're not as tough as you seem." Christine giggled, after she calmed me down. My breathing was heavy, and slightly uneven, but I still managed to laugh. "Tom was the one keeping me strong." And that was the truth. He was there for me, every step of the way. "You've made him proud Nikki, with everything you done for him today." She soothed into my ear. I took a deep breath in before finally getting off the floor. Forcing a smile. "Let's go and light some fireworks for him."

* * *

Colour after colour, the sky lit up. Green. Blue. Purple. Shining, mixing with the stars. We looked up at the night sky, which had now turned a lighter shade of blue. Not as dark as it was a few hours ago, but still equally as cold. The stars were out, and it seemed like a perfect, beautiful night. But one star shone brighter than the rest. "You see that star, Christine?" I said, pointing at it with my less shaky hands. She nodded gently. "I think it's Tom." I gulped, blinking back tears. Christine looked at me with emotion filling in her eyes. "Yeah, I think you're right." She smiles, slipping her hand into mine. I grip it tightly, like I used to with Tom before whispering:

"_Sleep tight, Thomas Clarkson. Gone but never forgotten_."

* * *

**Let me know what you think in a review please, thank you! And I apologise for the lack of Tom/Nikki, it's just hard to write it when he's been chucked off a building :/ **

**xoxoxox **


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